Emma: The Beginning
by nenenane
Summary: [The first in The Shadow series] Emma of Corus is a young serving maid, working at the Dancing Dove, the center for the Rogue's Court. There is more to the story than just that, but I'm not going to give it away in the summary! R&R.
1. Meeting Nobles

**Not very long, I'm sorry.**

**More to come,**

**I just wanted to see if anyone actually reviews it before more is written.**

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**Corus - 512 H.E.**

It had been one hundred years since King Jonathan's reign, and Tortall had been at it's highest peak. Little prospering has been done since the fabled time of King Jonathan and Queen Thayet, along with his Champion and other famous companions. His son had done a well enough job as king, but nobles, spurned by Jonathan, had plotted against the young Roald. His rule was a haggard one, trying to keep the people from turning on themselves. Now Corus is a ground down and tired city. A few months ago, King Roald passed away, leaving his oldest son, Martin, to become the soviergn. Nobles attempting to overthrow the monarchy saw a perfect opportunity. Martin's younger brother, Hallin, was a canvas waiting to be molded. His crafty and plotting mind would go along well with their plans. Whispers are heard everywhere, rumors that the rogue's are joining Hallin's cause. The country holds it's breath, waiting for the turning point. No one can yet determine the outcome.

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Curled under thin sheets, balled up to keep warm, Emma of Corus was sleeping soundly. The sun, set to rise in a few minutes, would soon wake the sleeping girl. Her room was a tiny apartment, dark and bare. She had a stool in the corner and a bedside table, one leg in danger of tipping the whole thing, wobbly as it was. The door lead down a cramped hallway, ending in another door. The sun, peeking above the earth, shone brightly through Emma's window. The tiny amount of light, in such a dark space, startled the girl into waking. Stretching and blinking, she greeted the day with a slight smile. Mornings were a good time for Emma, sort of a new start in her mind. Kicking her legs over the side of her bed, she got up and changed into her simple garbs. Her brown frock was placed over a white blouse. The cheapest clothes were most often what she wore. When visiting a temple or for a special occasions, she wore a pretty but still simple blue dress over her white blouse. Today was no special occasion, however, as she needed to get to work as soon as possible. She had no mirror to view her big brown eyes. Her straight brown hair, holding curls with much difficulty, was brushed without knowing how it looked. A mirror was a frivolity she had never knew to have in the morning, so she didn't miss it. Emma was tall for age, a good half of a head over other girls. Her strong crooked nose never seemed to detract from her over all appearance. Most boys thought her quite the catch, even if she wasn't the most beautiful girl around the marketplace. 

Dressed completey from head to toe, she patted her shirt down and headed out the door. Her sturdy everyday boots clomped across the floor as she reached the stair landing. She walked slower to quiet them, trying not to wake her sleeping sister and mother. Emma and her family lived above the milliner's shop, paying a rent to the milliner man and his wife. Emma's mother was always sick, never able to keep a job. She laid, invalid, in bed for days at a time. Because of this, Emma and her father worked hard to keep the rooms and food on the table. She had had two siblings, but her younger brother had died of a fever a few years back. The other was a eight-year-old sister, Ava. She helped around the house when their mother couldn't and made sure the sick woman was comfortable at all times while Emma was at work.

Down the hall, her father was quietly closing the door leading to his bedroom. He was tucking his shirt in to his brown breeches, and his black boots echoed her own. White teeth flashed against skin, tanned from many years working in the sun, as he smiled. Lawrence of Corus shared with Emma, along with all his children, a prominent nose. The nose went well with his squared jaw, creating a man that looked capable of lifting a boulder. His daughters knew a man who would feed one of their last scraps to a starving kitten. She greeted her da with a cheerful, "Good morning." They both headed downstairs to the milliner's shop, and thus outside. The milliner, creating the hats, worked with his wife, a stubborn woman who really ran the shop, and his eldest son, Conall. His wife was there to keep the bills and pick out the fashionable details. Conall helped out around the shop, apprenticing and running errands. He was a wiry young man, about a head taller than Emma, and had a nice easygoing look to his countenance. He smiled at Emma as she and her father passed by. Emma had noticed the older boy's eyes had lingered longer than neccessary on her curves of late. She smiled and waved back, just the same. They had been friends for a long time, no matter that Conall was acting silly right now.

Emma had gotten a job as a serving girl at the Dancing Dove. Known for housing the Rogue's court, the bar paid the most and was the closest to her house, only around the corner from the milliner's shop. Her father worked in an old blacksmith's shop; the older man had gotten an injury pertaining to his age, and Lawrence was now working in his stead. Out on the streets, Emma and her father waved and split to head off in seperate ways. Rounding the corner, streaming people pushed in on her from all sides. Most of the laboring class were up and busy at this time in the day. Fighting to reach the inn, she had to shove a few bodies out of her way. The disgruntled folk grumbled a few impolite words, reaching Emma's well trained ears. She headed inside, ignoring the grumblers, and walked back into the kitchen area. Samara, a young woman five years older than Emma and another serving maid, was already there, lounging on a stool. The woman was a curvy blonde, a favorite with the rogues they served. "G'morning, Emma." Samara greeted her sleepily. "Ellen's not here yet. Probably lost her way among the alleys." Emma giggled a bit, agreeing with Samara. Ellen, a much older woman, was always getting lost or confused when traveling from her house into the streets. Ellen, bursting into the area, replied, "I heard that. I could still outsmart you Samara, when it comes to wits." Gray hair curled around her small ears, despite being braided back tightly. The short stumpy woman commanded the serving maids at the Dancing Dove. Emma followed her orders alone, even if she didn't own the place.

Soon, the inn was filled with it's usuals, looking to catch up on gossip and sip an early morning ale. Emma, a wooden tray balanced on her hip, hopped from table to table, delivering the usual to her customers. Samara grinned across the room from her, doing the exact same routine. The two, despite an age difference, had developed an affection among themselves that only women could share. Emma's eyes quickly scanned the room, her sharp mind memorizing everyone's faces before in an instant. She had always had good memory, since she was a little thing, though it had never come in handy as of yet, except in the schools. She had done well in school, always thankful to the dead Queen Thayet, for establishing them for everyone. Emma had learned her letters the fastest in her class, and could still remember even without use, unlike most.

A hush fell over the room, breaking Emma from her trance. Her eyes automatically fell on the newcomers, as was everyone else's. There, in the doorway, stood two tall young men, taking off richly embroidered cloaks hinting at their wealth. These were no rogues, as everyone in the inn knew. One rogue, Twitch she recalled, whispered loudly. "We don't need no nobles in our inn." The men walked casually towards an open table, as if no one was staring at them. Emma, hurrying back to the kitchen, deposited her tray on a nearby table. Upon finding Ellen, she hurried whispered, "Should we be serving them?" Ellen twisting a strand around a finger, waved her away, meaning a yes. Samara, now having joined them, nodded her encouragement to Emma. She gulped and went back to collect her tray. Talking to nobles was intimidating, even for one as bold as she was. _An uneducated girl was all they would see me as_, she thought bashedly. Despite the shame she felt creeping into her features, she knew someone had to serve them. She wished she could just ignore them and hope they might go away. Gathering her courage, she opened her mouth to speak to knights for the very first time. "Welcome to the Dancing Dove. What can I get for you this fine morning?" She accompanied the chant with a winning, she hoped, smile, as she had been taught to do. The tallest, a man with dancing brown eyes and curly brown hair, smiled up at her. "We would like some ale and bread, thank you." His friend, a few inches shorter and with cropped red hair, smiled, too. They were both tan and wore crests that were undoubtedly also on their shields. The knights resumed a cozy chat when she turned her back on them. Returning with their food and drinks a few minutes later, they were still talking animatedly about something that obviously interested them. "May I ask what your name is, serving maid?" The dark-haired man asked. Emma blushed a little, then even more embarrased, answered. "Why yes, if you can give me yours along with his." She indicated the red-haired man with her head. They both chuckled appreciatively. "I am Robert of Sherrybrook, and this is Arnell of Pirate's Swoop." Emma's eyes got wide as she recognized the fief. "B-but that is where the Lioness lived."

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	2. An Unexpected Request

The men laughed over her bumbling comment, Sir Arnell most of all. She blushed a deep pink color, embarrassed at herself. Sir Robert waved it off, then catching his breath said. "No need to get embarrassed, he gets that all the time. Now, miss, your name?" She grinned at his kindness, and gathered her courage again. "I am Emma of Corus, sirs." She attempted a bow, knowing a curtsey was way beyond her reach. The knights nodded to her in return, then Sir Robert cleared his throat. "Well, we must be going, Emma of Corus." Arnell jumped out of his at this, nodding his agreement. "Quite right, Robert. Thank you for the excellent service. We will be returning, hopefully." The two nobles gathered their cloaks, and pushed their way into the crowd still pushing about outside. The inn seemed to breath a sigh of relief as the rogues returned to normal with their boasting and drinking loudly. Even Ellen sighed in relief and slumped into a chair by Emma. "How'd it go? I couldn't hear you myself, without raising suspicion." Emma smiled a slight smile, reliving the conversation in her mind. "It went quite fair, they were rightly nice." She called over her shoulder as she headed across the room, already starting to serve more people

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Sir Robert and Arnall made true to their word, appearing almost everyday, ordering the same bread and ale everytime. Emma continued to serve them everytime, as Samara and Ellen had no inclination of wanting to. They had more conversation, about trivial topics of no use, until Emma felt as comfortable with them as she would any customer, maybe more so. The nobles interested her in a way she couldn't explain. They had a certain air in the way they carried themselves. She caught herself many times trying to talk like them, laughing at the ridiculous thoughts she had. _Acting like a noble? I have lost my mind, _she thought. Her parents shook their heads everytime she mentioned the nobles or the talks they had. "Emma, nobles aren't are type of people. Please remember that," He would plead, kindness and sadness showing in his eyes. She would nod, but could never understand what he meant. Nobles were people like themselves, and they seemed nice enough. However, it wouldn't do to argue with her pa.

A fortnight since Emma had first met with the knights, she was at the Dancing Dove as usual, serving Robert and Arnall. The talk was much the same, with greetings and the like. She was going back to fetch their ale and bread when she spotted, out of the corner of her eye, Sir Arnall reach over and whisper to Sir Robert. The former nodded in agreement, ending the whispered conversation. Intrigued, as the two never whispered things to each other, Emma hurried back to the table. Sir Robert had strange look in his eye as he received the food and drink brought to him. His eyes still on Emma as she straightened up, done with giving them their food. "Just a moment," he said to her, as she proceeded to turn around and serve others. She stopped and whirled to face them, running over her memory in case she had forgotten something. Mentally shaking her head, she could think of nothing she had forgotten. "Yes, sir knight?" She questioned. He gestured for her to sit in an empty seat at their table, the first time he had done so. She hesitated for a second, glancing back at Samara who shrugged, then ungracefully plopped into the chair. She raised her eyebrows as a question, and Robert obliging continued. "Emma," He began, locking his eyes with hers, making sure she wouldn't look away. "How many men are in this inn?" She frowned at the odd question, but answered automatically, "Sir, there are 16, one upstairs and two in the kitchen. And if you notice, there is one hiding by the shadows in the corner, glaring at you two." Arnall nudged Robert, looking pleased. She wondered if she ought to be telling these men this, seeing little good coming from it. Still he continued to question her. "How many are wearing jewelry?" Again she answered, although she had no reason why. "12 men, sir." Sir Robert nodded looking pleased. "You may go now, Emma." A confused look on her face, she turned and headed back to the kitchen.

Ellen, nosy as she was, bombarded her with questions the minute she stepped inside the area. "Why did they ask you to sit? What did they ask you, Emma?" She shrugged in response; she could no more answer, confused as she was. "They asked me questions about the men in the room. Number questions." Ellen frowned but said nothing more. She ushered Emma back to serving, saying, "No time to ponder nobles. Work will never be done." She gratefully went back to work, glad that questions were being dropped for the time being. Routine picked back up, as she went from table to table, taking orders and being told dirty jokes.

As the knights were leaving, however, they called Emma back to their table one last time. She sighed, hoping no more illogical questions would be asked. She thought her brain would explode as she tried to explain the other ones. Standing up, Sir Robert was a very tall man. He now leaned down to whisper close to ear. "Two days from now, do you think you could meet me at the palace's gates?" Her eyes wide, she nodded. _Has he lost his mind? I am a serving maid. Why is calling me to the palace?_ , Emma thought, questioning his sanity. "Good. I will take you inside to meet someone." He said to the confused girl, then gathered his things. Shortly afterward, he and Arnall left, giving no explanation at all.

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That is a short one I know.

They next will be longer, explaining her visit and nervousness before said visit.

**MertleYut// **I have already answered your question, but I'd still like to thank you! Your my first reviewer. YAY!


	3. What A Proposal!

Itching with questions, Emma somehow managed to make it through the rest of the day without screaming. She worked as steadily as her brain could manage. At last the tables were scrubbed and the last rowdy rogues, staying painfully long, finally left. Ellen dismissed her, handing her some leftover bread to take home. She practically leaped for the door, but stopped herself to keep her dignity intact.

Her head buzzing, she haphazardly wondered home, bumping into a few people walking by. The way things were going, she knew she would never last another day. Sighing, she pushed open the door to the milliner's. Like always, Conall, sleeves rolled up his arm, was cleaning up. He closed shop for his mother and father, while they went home to prepare dinner. When he greeted her, she smiled up at him. He stopped with his work, propping up on a nearby table. She sat next to him, enjoying the smell of his clean clothes. The rumbling nervousness in her stomach was forgotten as they chatted about the day. Finally, Emma had to head upstairs to give her father the bread and eat her supper.

The next day was as painfully slow, more so if that was possible, as the day before. The same nervous energy she had displayed the day before appeared today. She badly wanted to know why nobles needed her at the palace. Emma wasn't the sort to let things that are going to be, just be. Ellen and Samara gave her quizzical looks all day, commenting on her distant looks. Sleep came slowly, as thoughts raced across her mind that had no solutions. At last, dawn broke across the sky, waking Emma. With hands shaking with nervous excitement, she dressed into her best dress and blouse. Over these, she wore a cloak to break the chill coming on.

She had already told her father and Ellen where she was going today, getting the day off and her father's approval. Pulling the cloak's hood over her face, she trekked down the streets, heading towards the Temple District the bordered the palace. The temples of the gods, looming above her, were peacefully empty. No one visited these to honor the gods in the middle of the week, except the priests and priestesses, who were inside. Gazing around, she realized she had never really admired the ancient buildings, but they were quite beautiful.

The palace gates finally sprung ahead of her, complete with guards and beggars. Slowing down, she blended with the crowd and kept her cloak over her head. She didn't want anyone to see her, for some reason she couldn't explain. Scanning the compact area around the gates, she saw a tall tan man with brown hair and a joking grin. Smiling to herself, she recognized Sir Robert, standing there lazily and folding his arms. Caution forgotten, she strode toward the knight ahead of her. When she cast back her hood, he recognized her. Taking her by the arm, he led her past the burly guards, who gazing at them with suspicion.

"How are today? I hope you've had a good morning." Robert said pleasantly, smiling down at her as they entered the castle. She laughed a little, then replied. "My morning was fine. Right nice mess you made me, leaving me questioning what I was supposed to do here. Actually, what am I doing here?" She asked, hoping he would answer. Out of the corner of his eye, he looked at her but only shook his head. Emma sighed and scowled up at him.

Stopping in front of a wooden door labeled only with 'Eris Mitty', he opened the door for her and gestured inside. Peering in a bit, she saw a middle-aged man sitting at a wide desk, littered with papers. The man had black hair speckled with gray and keen eyes that seemed to see right through Emma. Chills climbed up her spine, but she boldly stepped through the opening despite her misgivings. A chair was set in front of the man's desk, and he gestured for her to sit down there. She obliged him, nodding a greeting of sorts.

He smiled a friendly crooked smile at the young girl before him. "Why Emma of Corus, I meet you at last." His drawl was one familiar to her, one she had heard mainly at the Dancing Dove. "Sir, I must say, are you still a rogue?" She ginned at him, praying he would take her comment for the joke it was. He did. "I see you are the right woman for the job." He winked at her, acknowledging Sir Robert and Arnell that had come up to sit on his desk.

"Now. Can we get to the point of this meeting? I would dearly like to know." Emma asked, turning to all three of them in turn. Exchanging glances, the man she took to be Eris Mitty spoke up, "As you know, the country is turning on itself. Nobles are taking sides, scheming against the crown or defending King Martin. This has happened before, but His Highness is new at being a king. He doesn't have, shall we say, the tactics needed to govern a kingdom ready to overthrow him. Few people do." Emma smiled at this attempt to lighten the weight of what he was saying. "Rumors have been flying everywhere that the rogues are planning to join with the treasoning nobles. The results would be horrendous. We usually don't listen to rumors, but my men report the same thing." She still didn't understand who he was. _I hope they aren't recruiting me as a soldier. I'd be no use, _she thought. "Sir, your men?" She raised her eyebrows at him when she asked this. "Please, call me Eris. And I am the spymaster. I assume Arnell and Robert told you none of this?" She nodded while the two knights in question shrugged sheepishly. "I thought you wanted secrecy."

"Anyway," he continued, brushing past this mishap as if it was nothing. "I would like you to report to me the doings of the rogue court. You are perfect for the job, as a serving maid working there. Robert and Arnell tell me you have good memory skills that are essential to spying." Emma gulped at this, as he concluded his speech. They wanted her to spy for them. "Goddess…" She whispered. Her spy for the king and crown? She frowned slightly, thinking it over. She had no attachment to the rogues there, even if she did work for them. The benefits she couldn't yet imagine. "I-," she started out as a croak. "I'll do it. I will spy for you Master Mitty." She cracked a grin, peering up at him through her lashes. "Good. Your training starts today."

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Hmmm, yes now we get down to it.

My plot is starting to shine through.

I hope you review it wholeheartedly. -grins wickedly-

**MertleYuts// **Thank you again for your kind review. It truly touches my heart. P

**Doms// **I tried to cut up the paragraphs better this time. Thank you!

**Lady Zarobiti// **Ohh, wow. Amazing? That is quite the compliment. So is adding Emma to your community!

And so we go...

[[Don't get me started on Pendragon.

DJ MacHale is a genius!


	4. Clumsy Weaponwork & Undying Love

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AN: Sorry for the bit of a delay. I was sick most of the weekend and Monday.

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Emma fingered the crook of her nose with one hand; the other was placed on her hip. Her keen eyes followed Eris's fingers move along the knotted string. He explained the importance of the code hidden in rope. "Tortallan spies have used this code for a long time, since Alanna's father was spymaster. I wouldn't dare change it; it works to well for that. No other country has yet managed to crack it. That we know of." The wide grin spread over his face as he laughed at his own joke made her smile too. Codes and things she understood easily, picking them up in a matter of minutes. The other ones he had showed her were already memorized and stored in her head. 

Eris unsheathed a knife that had been lying on the table beside him. Emma swallowed hard, a nervous prickle creeping up her spine. _Why did he have to bring out that accursed weapon?, _she thought sourly, though she knew this was coming all along. Lower class women didn't usually carry weapons, and she was no exception. She had never touched a knife before, let alone wielded one. He thrust it in front of her, insisting she take. Slowly, she reached out and took it like it had the plague. The knights watching and the spymaster laughed. "You must learn to hold a weapon better," Eris said, wryly shaking his head.

The men lead her to the practice courts used for the squires and pages. Arnell and Robert showed her a few thrusts and jabs to go through. She stumbled through them, embarrassed. Later, they went through the blocks and trick moves that spies needed to know. "You must continue to practice these on your own. I cannot stress how important a knife is to a spy. It _will_ save your life." Eris, who had been watching from the side the whole time, pointedly said to a sweaty and tired Emma. She wiped the perspiration from her forehead and nodded. Words wouldn't come just yet. She tucked the newly sharpened knife under her clothes, loosening them to hide the weapon from view.

"You will not come back here for more lessons. All you learned today must be practiced alone. It will look too suspicious if you continually return to my rooms, especially with two notable knights accompanying you. I wish you luck. You can contact me when you have more information on the rogues." He patted her shoulder, signaling the end to the day and his need for her. Exhausted mentally and physically, she slumped her shoulder and trudged back to the gates. A cheerful Robert came along. Desperately wanting to wipe the silly smile off his face, she snapped, "Oh, why are you smiling?" He shrugged, knowing his grin was affecting her. She scowled back, marching through the gates without a look or word back to him.

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Emma took that night off from practicing. Her aching muscles screamed all night, until finally she fell into bed earlier than usual. When morning came, she felt surprisingly well rested. "Sleep heals everything," she whispered tiredly to herself, yawning. Her daily routine took over, and she thought while her body went through the motions.

Work went normally, with a few brawls springing up through out the day, but altogether nothing to notable. Ellen let her go home earlier than usual, as she had a new girl she wanted to train. "I won't need you this afternoon, duckling. Just go home and relax," the older woman had told her, patting her shoulder. She didn't refuse. _I feel bad leaving them, but if she insists,_ she thought guiltily.

She came upon Conall sitting alone on one of the tables, looking bored. His mother and father frequently left him to tend the shop alone. They had better things to do, while their capable son needed to learn how to run a shop. Her entrance spooked him out of his trance. "Surprising seeing you here, Emma. How'd you get off work early?" He questioned lazily, hopping off the table. She grinned at his loping walking as he neared her. "Ellen let me off. We've a new girl needin' trained. No customers, I s'pose." She stated, more of a statement than a question. He nodded his agreement.

She watched his athletic movements when he went to get a cup of ale for both of them from the back. She bit her lip as a preposterous idea struck her. Accepting the cup of ale, she looked up into her longtime friend's eyes. _If I can't trust Conall, I can't trust anyone, _she reasoned to herself. "If I tell you something important, you can't tell anyone," she started mysteriously. He smirked. "Emma, you can trust me." He looked back into her eyes, sending reassurance coursing through her.

Sighing, Emma started out awkwardly, "Well, you see, it all started with them two knights I was telling you about. You know, Sir Robert and Arnell." He nodded, understanding her train of thought as always. "See, they invited me to the palace. Crazy, huh? I went; I can't be refusing nobles. They took me to Eris, this man at there. But he wasn't just any man! He was the spymaster. And him and them wanting me, plain old Emma, to go around spying for 'em. The Gods must've possessed me, for I said yes. And now they want me to use a knife!" She slumped her shoulders, while Conall laughed wildly. "Why, of course I'll help you learn to use a knife. But you have to calm down, and teach me what they taught you." She smiled gratefully, glad someone understood her.

Conall learned the moves with an ease and grace she wished she possessed. He practiced diligently with her, correcting mistakes here and there. They kept an eye out for her father, who would be coming home soon. All too soon, her father rounded the corner, and she hurriedly hid her knife. Wiping sweat from their eyes, the two stood in a line and greeted the man. Glancing suspiciously from face to face, he nodded for them to continue whatever they were doing. "See you at dinner, Emma," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. She rolled her eyes. Both fathers were expecting to get an engagement organized someday between the two young people. She heard Conall chuckle quietly beside her. Turning to elbow him, she asked jokingly, "What's so funny? That my father thinks we were professing our undying love for each other down here, is that it?" She giggled and Conall nodded, grinning wickedly. Suddenly, an odd gleam came into his eyes. She became aware of how close they really were. He slowly, almost fearfully, bent down to kiss her. A thrill shot through her, but as soon as it had happened it was done. "I-," he started, but Emma shook her head. They both smiled sheepishly. She couldn't take the awkward moment anymore. She dashed up the stairs without another look.

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Dinner had been another ordeal, with amused glances and raised eyebrows from her father. Her little sister kept screeching, "What is going on? Tell me!" Emma would pale, pleading with her laughing father. Finally escaping to her room, she shut the door. _What had happened,_ she thought, still amazed She had kissed boys before, but had never imagined kissing Conall. She hoped their kiss wouldn't create a permanent space between them. His friendship was too important to lose over this. She sighed and started undressing for bed.

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**This chapter didn't progress much of anything.**

**I just thought Emma needed some romance.**

**Lady Zarobiti// **Thank you again! I heart DJ MacHale. Who couldn't love his work? Pure genius. Glad you share that with me!

**Doms// **I try! Thank you. I liked the tip anyway.

**Sonja Mascari//** I hate it when people can't spell write. Some people just shouldn't write...but thank you! I worry about my descriptiveness, I really do.

**Icklekins// **Hanhan! hehe. EEEK. I agree with you on the spellchecker thing. But thank you on the compliment.

**deceased && Time and Fate//** Thank you, thank you.


	5. Eavesdropping

**I am soooo sorry, my readers!**

**I have lost track of time and Emma.**

**I will write more, I promise.**

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Emma started to work harder than usual of the next few weeks. She didn't want another awkward moment between herself and Conall. Another kiss might ensue; she couldn't handle that right now. And she needed to focus on her work. She really wanted this now: the chance to protect her country. Not many lower class women got this spectacular chance, and she knew this. She wasn't about to let this slip from her fingers because of laziness. Her permanent instructor and supervisor, Conall, could see the improvement. She carefully watched him through her eyelashes as she went through her routine of thrusts and kicks. He was as silent as ever, but there was praise in his eyes. She hoped that was what it was.

This new work was hard on her body. She would gently, ever so gently, lie down on her bed at night. She didn't want to upset her aching joints anymore than she had to. But she could feel this ache slowly fading away, turning into muscle. The physical difference was brutually noticable too. She felt like a man with these new bulging muscles. This was an exagerration, since they weren't that big and most women had muscles from the manual labor they did. Still, Emma eyed them with curiousity as she dressed in the morning.

Work at the tavern hadn't changed much. Samara and Ellen didn't comment much on her drooping lids and more toned body. Their secret looks were enough to signal that they suspected something. Which was the last thing Emma wanted; she didn't need questions or alerted people. Being a spy was about the exact opposite.

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"I'm so sorry," Emma gushed as she grabbed her try from the table. Ellen just crossed her arms over her bosoms. "It's fine," she replied wearily, as if she had suspected this to be happening. "It's isn't like that Ellen," she begin to explain. "It's just momma needed me this…" She trailed off with a sharp look from Ellen. She mumbled to herself then took a rag to wipe a table off. It didn't need it, but the task just felt like a habit. Looking up suddenly, she noticed an odd occurance. The room was quiet and empty. Samara noticed her look and said, "They're havin a meeting upstairs. Something important." She rolled her eyes, hoping to get a laugh about men. Bu Emma felt like the wind had been knocked from her. She dropped the rag unconsciously.

The Rogues were holding court upstairs. The Rogues she was supposed to be spying on. She needed to get up there fast, but she knew that would cause suspicion from her fellow workers. Her anxiety grew as the seconds ticked by. What were they saying up there? A plot against the king maybe? Her hands began to sweat and she clamped them together harder than she should have.

Her breakthrough moment came a few agonizing minutes later. The men were yelling and pounding on the floor. A tired looking Ellen came out of the back kitchen with a tray filled with alcohol. "The King demnads me," she said wryly. I bounded forward, trying to be inconspicuous but failing. I took the tray from her hands. "I will take them," I told her, trying to pretend I was doing an act of pure kindness. She let her take it, but not without a suspicous look.

Her hands shook as she knocked on the firm wooden door. It so offset her mood right now; the irony of that thought made her grin. A gruff round of 'Come in' was the answer to her knock. She set her chin and strode in, trying to act normally. As her tray was set down, she glanced around. The room looked secure enough; this meeting was definitely an important one. But an odd fact stuck in her mind. Only the door and windows were protected by the rogue's magic. Apparently, the mages weren't strong enough for a whole silencing spell.

Emma, her mind calculating, shook the door without much thought. She had to find the inn's attic. She might be able to hear through the cracks in the building's thin floors. It was her only chance she saw, without scaling the walls and peering in. Even that was a ridiculous thought.

Her head and heart were pounding as she climbed up the stairwell. She was going as quickly as the quiet she needed allowed. The upstairs was not an attic as she supposed; the floor contained empty rooms, never used. She slipped down the hall. The room she needed to be in was the second from the back. The door creaked when she opened it, and her heartbeat quickened. She knew the men downstairs could not hear such a trivial sound, but the danger was there all the same. She carefully kneeled onto the floor, her quick eyes searching for a crack.

Found it! A small hole a few inches from the far wall. She laid her body down beside it, her ear covering the opening. Sound filtered in, but it was hard to her. She had to strain and quiet her breathing to hear distinct words.

"_Clifton holds our…"_

'_Why should we defend such…"_

"_Only hope…"_

Different phrases being nothing to her drifted in and out. She knew Clifton was fief to the north, along the Scanran border. At least this was something to go on. The men's voices grew hushed now, as if they were finished talking. Her time was coming to a close, she knew, because Ellen and Samara would miss her soon. If only she could catch something else. But the men would not yield anything new; the meeting was drawing to a close.

Emma hurried down the stairs. She needed to get downstairs before the men came outside of their room. They would definitely be suspicious of a girl hanging about their room. She didn't need them brought down upon her.

She need not have worried. The rogues were still drinking, and no doubt would be until the early hours. She sighed with relief and let her heartbeat go down to a normal pace. Downstairs, her two friends were leaning against the tables and talking.

"Everything all right?"

"Yes, yes. I just got a little caught up in there," she said tiredly, letting the think of something that hadn't happened. Samara, she knew, would remember what it was like to be hit on. It was an easy excuse for a delayed return. "May I leave early? You know mother isn't feeling so good," she asked politely. Ellen nodded, waving for her to hurry. Family was more important than work.

She didn't waste time headed out. She needed to process her information, and more importantly figure out how to tell the spymaster without raising suspicion. Her work was cut out for her.

* * *

**Suspense, maybe?**

**Thanks to my reviewers.**


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